Til Death Do Us Part
by churry
Summary: The boys' last year of high school is almost over, so there's no time for Cartman to think up anything totally insane. Like getting married, for instance. Is there? [Twoshot] [R&R!]
1. Unbelievable

Stan wasn't expecting what he saw when he opened the oven door. His navy eyes widened in shock, and his mouth dropped open.

"Christ," he managed to utter feebly, staring at what was supposed to be the thing to help him pass his Gourmet 12 class: a birthday cake. An utterly fucked up cake that didn't exactly look edible was what faced him instead.

Stan sighed heavily and yanked the cake out of the oven, loudly plunking it down onto the granite counter top in the kitchen.

The top layer slid off, revealing an unbaked center.

Stan stared at his supposed masterpiece in dismay, and had no idea what he was going to do next, when the doorbell rang. He observed the monstrosity for a moment longer, before forcing himself to answer the door.

"Hey dude," Kyle greeted him cheerily when he opened the door, "I'm here to do our science pro—" Kyle's emerald eyes narrowed and his nose wrinkled as soon as he stepped inside. "What the hell is that smell? Is something burning?"

Stan exhaled slowly as he led Kyle to the living room, where he had earlier set up posters and supplies for them to make their project about the solar system. Kyle would have to work alone now, as Stan had thought the cake would have been done before he had gotten there.

"It's the cake I made for my final project in my cooking class," Stan explained as Kyle settled down on the couch.

Kyle raised an eyebrow at this. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't you failing that course?"

"Yeah. And that's why the cake was supposed to turn out all pretty and shit. So I could pass. But now…" Stan's voice trailed off and he inwardly cursed himself for taking the cooking course. He knew he sucked at anything to do with preparing food, but Wendy had suckered him into it, insisting it would look good on his resume and show he was a man who wasn't afraid of the culinary arts. But Stan _was_ afraid, very much so. And now he knew why.

Kyle shook his head and smiled. "Dude, how could you screw up? All you had to do was follow the recipe."

"I did!" Stan declared indignantly. What did Kyle take him for, a complete moron?

"Whatever. Let me see the recipe," Kyle instructed, and Stan huffily went off and brought it to him. Kyle read it over carefully before looking up at Stan.

"Like I said, it's really easy."

"I'd like to see you try, wise ass!"

"No, I'm not baking your stupid cake for you!"

"Are you afraid that you can't?" Stan challenged, knowing how much Kyle prided himself on being able to do anything his friends could do.

Kyle jumped to his feet and stormed off into the kitchen without responding. Stan watched him go, feeling relieved. He was as good as gold now; Kyle had once created a whole dinner for his (now ex) girlfriend Bebe and she had told everyone that the food was amazing.

"Thanks, Kyle Wyle!" Stan called sweetly as he settled down to begin working on their project.

Kyle reappeared in the entrance to the kitchen, looking uncomfortable in Stan's mom's mauve apron.

"Fuck off!" He growled, trying to sound threatening, but Stan knew that his best friend was about as deadly as a balled up sock.

"Love you!" Stan winked, while Kyle rolled his eyes and headed into the kitchen to repair the damage Stan had done. Just as Stan was about to start cutting out some pictures of the planets, there came a knock on the door.

Stan's brow furrowed as he got up to answer it. Who would that be, especially on a Sunday night?

When Stan opened the door, he was pissed off when he saw no one there. It had probably been some stupid kids playing Nikki Nikki Nine Doors or something—

Wait; there was a white envelope lying on the doorstep with his name on it. Stan bent down and picked it up, before shutting the door and walking back to the sofa.

"Who was that, Wendy?" Kyle asked from the depths of the kitchen, the sounds of pans clattering morphing with his voice.

Stan shook his head, when he realized Kyle couldn't see him.

"No, it was nobody."

"_Nobody_knocked on the door? That's interesting; I wonder how the sound of knocking was created."

"Shut up, Kyle!" Stan laughed as he tore open the envelope. A piece of cream colored paper that was heavily perfumed slipped out, and Stan's eyes watered at the strong aroma. He blinked his tears away before beginning to read.

Stan Marsh,

You are cordyly invited to a speshial cyrimony tonite at my house. Wear your best kloths, or I'll kick your ass. If you don't show up, I swear to God, your dog will go bye bye.

P.S. I noe The Jew is at yur house rite now, but he can't cum.

-Eric Theodore Cartman

Stan slowly lowered the letter beside him, not sure at what exactly he had just read. Cartman was known for doing totally random and insane things, but he had never written a letter before. Probably because he didn't know how to spell well, but whatever he was planning must be something big if he was sending letters out to people.

Stan jumped when he saw Kyle appear in front of him as if by magic. "Whoa, I didn't see you there!" Stan exclaimed, instinctively covering the letter with his hand.

Kyle's eyes focused on it, and he turned to Stan with a questioning look in his eyes.

"What's that?"

"It's nothing."

"Letter from Wendy?"

"No."

"Person at the door give it to you?"

"There was no one at the door, Kyle."

"Uh huh. Let me see it."

Stan was about to deny his request, not wanting Kyle to feel bad about not being invited to whatever ceremony Cartman was planning, when Kyle moved with sudden agility and managed to snatch the letter away from him. Stan watched helplessly as the red haired boy read it.

"It's cool how you and Cartman are planning some party without me," Kyle said, his voice sounding much colder than it had been earlier.

"We're not," Stan replied quickly, thinking of a way to patch things up with him. "Would I _ever_ want to plan a party with that Fatass Nazi?"

Kyle's expression softened as he handed the letter back to Stan. "I guess not. So you really don't know what he wants?"

"Nope," Stan confirmed, "but I have a feeling it will scare the shit out of me."

"Probably," Kyle agreed. "Anyways, the cake is in the oven and I'm pretty sure that it'll be good enough to pass you."

If Stan was a touchy feely guy, he would have hugged Kyle, but he didn't want him to get the wrong idea. So he gave him a friendly whack on the shoulder instead.

"Thanks, Kyle. You've really saved me this time."

Kyle was about to respond, when the phone rang.

"Is it Wendy?"

It was Stan's turned to be annoyed now. Did Kyle think that Wendy and Stan were super glued together or what?

"I don't know," he replied as he padded across the floor and picked it up.

"Yeah?"

"Stan, you're coming right?"

Stan turned to Kyle and mouthed, "It's Cartman." Kyle looked as confused as Stan felt, and Stan forced himself to pay attention to what Cartman was blabbing about.

"What?"

There was a heavy sigh.

"I said, be there in 15 minutes 'cause it's starting soon, asshole."

"What's starting?"

"Didn't you read my letter?"

"I tried; believe me I did."

"Ay! Don't fucking make fun of my spelling you son of a bi—"

"You just said a ceremony, you didn't mention specifics."

"I'm getting married!"

Stan slowly pulled the receiver away from his ear, the three words ringing in his head. Cartman was…getting married?

"Fuck, Cartman. You have to be kidding me. You're not serious, right?"

"I'm so seriouslah, I'd make out with your lover Moses if I was lying."

Kyle must've noted the expression on Stan's face, or sensed what Cartman had said about him, that he tore the phone out of Stan's hand and began speaking to Cartman.

"Hipposaurus, what do you want?"

"Do I need to explain this again? I thought that your Stanny wanny poo just gave you my message with his tongue down your throat."

"Fuck you, Cartman! What is going on?"

"For the last goddamn time, I'm getting married!"

Kyle was deeply disturbed, and forced himself to take a deep breath to keep from screaming hysterically.

"You're lying, Cartman. Who would marry you? No blind transvestites live in South Park."

Stan snapped out of his daze and laughed. Kyle was hilarious when he was ticked off.

"Whatever, it doesn't matter Kahl. You're not invited."

"So? I don't _want _to go to your fake wedding!"

"It's not fake, Kahl. It's totally real. I'm seriouslah."

Stan made pleading expressions when he heard Kyle say he wouldn't go. He didn't want to have to be at Cartman's messed up wedding, real or not, all by himself. Kyle grimaced, but knew he couldn't just leave Stan in the lurch.

"Actually, I'll come."

"But you can't!"

"Do you have a best man?"

"Yeah, Stan is!"

"Do you have a ring bearer?"

"Tweek."

Kyle was running out of options when he had a sudden flash of inspiration.

"Do you have a wedding cake?"

"No, but I can use chicken pot pie!"

"Then it's not a real wedding, is it? You have to have the wedding cake."

Silence.

"Fine, you can come. But don't sprinkle your jew dust onto the cake!"

"I wouldn't waste it on _you_."

Cartman let out a stream of cursing and hung up, and Kyle turned to Stan with a solemn expression on his face.

"So, the apocalypse has begun."

A/N: I really think that sucked balls, but I did write it at one am in the morning, so you can forgive me, right? xD I'll try my darndest to make the next (and final) chapter better! )


	2. No Effing Way

Cartman sat in his room after hanging up on Kyle (otherwise known as Moses to him), feeling rather contemplative. He was already dressed for the big event in a flashy white tux, his hair was neatly combed, and his shoes were on. All that was left for him to do was wait for all his guests to come, and they would be arriving shortly.

"I am getting married," He said slowly, savoring each word. "I am getting married before anyone else; before the stupid jew rat Moses!"

That was totally sweet.

Cartman got up from his comfy bed, and ambled over to his full-length mirror. Usually, it was covered up with his "I Heart Hitler!" jersey, as he didn't particularly care about how he presented himself, but today was special.

"Hey, hot stuff," Cartman purred at his reflection, pleased with how dashing he looked in his outfit. His bride to be would go totally wild for him, he was sure of it.

Cartman smiled just thinking about his bride, who he had made a vow with not to see or speak to on the day of the wedding. He had known his future spouse ever since he was a child, but hadn't really loved them until recently. Cartman wasn't even sure he had been _capable_ of love, but what else could that warm and fuzzy feeling whenever they were in the same room together be, hate? And so, in a whirlwind, he had pulled the wedding together and pleasantly surprised everyone with their invitations.

Cartman snorted when he thought about how some people had reacted when he told them. Some, like Stan and Moses, had been skeptical, but as Charlie the unicorn said, 'Shun the nonbelievers!' Others, particularly the girls who had been invited, squealed with excitement and wondered who the lucky girl would be. Well, they would soon find out…

Cartman felt his stomach churn anxiously, and he frowned at it in puzzlement. That was certainly new; he had never really felt worried before.

"Mom," he called out as he descended down the stairs, "can you give me some pepto bismol? My tummy feels funny."

His mother, Liane Cartman, popped her brunette head out from the kitchen and smiled pleasantly at him.

"Sure, hun. Who's that at the door?"

"Probably one of the guests coming to my wedding."

His mom didn't bat an eye at the news, although Cartman had never mentioned marriage once in the 18 years he had lived with her. His mom was cool like that.

"That's nice, hun. Have fun!"

"I will."

When Cartman opened the door, there was a blonde haired boy standing on his porch, dressed in a long black robe and wearing a rosary around his neck.

"Hey Butters. The ceremony's taking place in the backyard, so why don't we just—"

"E-Eric," Butters replied nervously as he followed Cartman through the house, "I know you told me to like, be the priest for your wedding but I'm not sure if I can actually do a good job."

Cartman paused in mid step and Butters tripped over his robe, nearly falling to the ground. Cartman stared at him coolly while he regained his bearings, and offered him a very scary smile.

"Butters, did you google 'being a priest for weddings' like I told you to?" Cartman asked, his sweet voice tainted with the malice behind it.

Butters nodded several times, and he looked like one of those bobble heads that fags kept on the dash shields of their cars. "Yeah, I did, but you didn't even tell me that you were getting married until this morning so I—"

Cartman shoved Butters to the place where he was going to be standing for the wedding, smiling innocently when Butters shot a dirty look at him.

"Butters, you're not being very priestly," Cartman warned, hearing more knocks coming at the door.

Butters kicked some dirt with his black dress shoe and mumbled, "Well, you're not being very nice, is all."

Cartman shifted from foot to foot in annoyance, pissed that Butters was being his usually whiny self. He needed to answer the goddamn door! But he couldn't just have his priest cancel on him, so Cartman just had to suck it up.

"I'm sorry, Butters. It's just that, I'm so scared and all, you know? This is a big step for me on the pathway of life."

Cartman resisted the urge to grab Butters by the shoulders and give him a good shake when he saw how Butters actually seemed to be inspired by his crappy little speech. Whatever, as long as the stick was out of his ass, the wedding was good to go and—

Shit, the door!

Blurting out an insincere apology, Cartman escaped from Butters who was rambling on about his first time masturbating and made a beeline for the front door. He skidded to a halt when he saw that his mom had already answered it, and was talking to Clyde, Craig, Wendy, Bebe, and Tweek.

"Hey, you guys. Glad you could make it!" Cartman grinned, shaking each of their hands and acting like the perfect groom.

Craig shook his hand a wee bit too hard, and Cartman shot him a death glare. That sonofabitch, he was probably going to flip off his bride or something! But he needed more people, so he had to invite him.

"It's so sweet of you all to show up for my little poopykins' wedding!" Liane giggled girlishly.

"Mom!" Cartman groaned, ushering everyone out back and away from his mother who was dabbing at her teary eyes proudly.

"Don't you need to actually be married at a church or something?" Bebe mused as Cartman sat her down alongside Wendy and the others in the backyard.

'No, you dumb blonde bimbo bitch! You can get married anywhere!' Cartman longed to scream, but he had to keep his cool.

"Why, sure you can. Thanks so much for coming to my wedding!" Cartman crooned, ignoring how Bebe turned to Wendy and began to whisper and giggle with her. Those dumb girls were nothing at all like his bride, who was sweet and quiet and helpful…

Cartman slowly turned around when he sensed someone convulsing nearby him. It was Tweek, well known freak and coffee addict.

"Yes?" Cartman asked, trying to resist the headache that was looming just on the horizon.

Tweek jerked and twitched for a little bit, before finally spitting out, "I don't think it's a good idea for me to be, the like, ring bearer. Ungh!" He twitched spastically.

"You'll be great, don't worry. The ring and pillow are on that table near the priest. After Butters is done with all the vow stuff and Clyde starts playing the piano, walk up the aisle and bring the rings. Sound good?"

"No, that's fucking way too much pressure, man!" Tweek trembled, practically having a seizure. But Cartman had heard more knocks on the door, and had run off to answer it.

Cartman made a quick detour to the kitchen and gulped down a spoon of pepto bismol to soothe his queasiness before opening it. Just his luck, it was the gruesome twosome.

"Hey assholes," Cartman greeted curtly, dropping the gentleman act he had been using with the other guests. Stan and his secret lover Moses knew him too well and wouldn't fall for it.

"Hi." Stan greeted him, his voice sounding vacant. Cartman squinted at him. Was it just the lighting, or did Stan actually look a little _green_? Was that bastard actually that surprised over Cartman getting married?

Kyle didn't bother to respond. Instead, he gestured with his chin at the cake that he held in his hands. "Where do I put this, or do you want to eat it now?"

"Ay!" Cartman cried, and was about to whack him on the side of the head when his mother appeared.

"…I mean, thanks so much for the cake, Mo— Kahl. You can just put it on the kitchen table for after the ceremony." He said, his voice oozing with warmth and goodness. His mother dabbed at her eyes at the sweetness of her son and wandered off into the living room, and Cartman was free to drop his nice guy act.

"Go out into the backyard, everyone's there. Tell Butters that we're starting in 5!" Cartman barked, and Kyle sighed and guided the shell shocked Stan to the kitchen.

Cartman raced to his room, and pulled his wife out of the closet. It was time.

Stan and Kyle settled on the bench with the others a few moments later, and Wendy turned to Stan with a wide smile on her face.

"Hi, Stan. Isn't this weird?"

Stan blinked, her voice snapping him out of his daze. "Uh, yeah. Totally. I mean, who would marry Cartman?"

"That's not nice, Stan," Wendy said sternly, but a small laugh escaped her lips.

Kyle watched them talk, feeling like the third wheel as usual. And he was a little weirded out by how Bebe had suddenly begun flirting with Craig the second Kyle walked in. That's ex girlfriends for you.

Everyone lapsed into silence when Clyde suddenly began playing the piano, and they craned their necks around to see who the bride was. They were puzzled to see Cartman coming up, when they noticed what was cradled in his arms. It was…a stuffed frog?

Kyle turned to Stan with wide eyes, and Stan met his gaze. They had seen that frog before, albeit not in a small wedding dress with a veil.

Cartman's bride was Artemus Clyde Frog.

Cartman didn't notice their surprise as he lovingly cuddled Clyde frog and stood proudly in front of Butters, who looked like everything about the situation was totally normal.

Butters began to read something from the bible and a piece of paper he had printed out from google, but Stan didn't hear any of it. Cartman was marrying…a stuffed frog. Male or female, Stan didn't know, but he was pretty sure that something like that was illegal. Not to mention insane on every account.

"Jesus Christ," Kyle uttered. He should have known that something like this would have been the case, but he had actually begun to believe that Cartman was going to marry an actual flesh and blood human being. He was a total retard for thinking _that_.

Everyone watched on in a sort of dreamy silence, when Butters took a deep breath.

"Is there anyone who objects to the union of these two? Say so now, or f-forever hold your peace."

No one said anything. They were too confused.

Cartman smiled happily and Butters was about to go on, when a boy in a florescent orange parka stormed into the yard and interrupted the ceremony.

"I object!" He cried out, and everyone let out a gasp.

Cartman turned to face him, holding Clyde frog protectively in his arms. "Kenny, what the fuck are you doing here? I didn't invite you!"

Kenny stormed towards him and stopped an inch away from Cartman, pulling the hood down from around his face and revealing his freshly washed dirty blonde hair.

"I know. Why didn't you? You invited Kyle, instead of me? I thought I was your _best friend_!"

"Well, you thought wrong. I don't need you here. Poor people bring bad luck. So get lost and leave me and Clyde frog alone!"

Kenny looked at Clyde frog for the first time since he had barged in, and raised his head back up to look at Cartman, with an odd smile on his face.

"You wanna know something? Your precious little frog is a _whore_!"

Everyone sat spellbound, and Stan quietly threw up on the grass. He just couldn't take it anymore, and Wendy patted him on the head, murmuring soothing words.

Cartman retreated from Kenny, and quickly glanced at Clyde frog, whose black button eyes seem to sparkle up at him.

"No. No, you're lying!" Cartman roared. "You just want Clyde frog for yourself, you poor asshole!"

"We fucked and it was great!" A small voice piped up, and everyone turned to stare at Clyde frog.

Kenny smiled knowingly. "It was, wasn't it?"

"No…No!" Cartman uttered, before throwing his beloved across the lawn and into a tree, where it crumpled in a heap.

"You good for nothing tramp! You cheating, lying, bitch!" Cartman shrieked in Clyde frog's direction, before running off into his house.

Everyone looked towards Kenny, who simply shrugged.

Kyle shook his head slowly and blinked once. "Who wants some cake?"

A/N: I think that was better than the first chapter. Hurrah! ;D Were you surprised, or did you see it coming? Please review, and be sure to check out my new SP story coming out soon!


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